


This is the story of a secret

by mattysones



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, eyebrow porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:02:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattysones/pseuds/mattysones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was mostly sure no one else knew. Not even Francis knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is the story of a secret

It was Arthur's little secret.

He was mostly sure no one else knew. Not even Francis knew, and Francis had tried many times to find that spot. When Arthur had figured it out it had been an epiphany more than anything, and with it he knew there was no way he could let anyone else know. At least, over his dead body. It was so embarrassing.

See, while figuring it out he realized he liked to have Francis cut his hair. It had been a little kid thing, really, perfectly innocent. It was something that felt good, and he wanted to feel it again. Not until he was older and with his epiphany did he realize what was happening.

His eyebrows.

Arthur stopped letting Francis touch his bangs.

He didn't let anyone run their hands through his hair during sex either because they usually started at his forehead. It got him off too quickly. He could pass as not liking his hair touched, which was more normal than telling someone his eyebrows were an erogenous spot. Though he suspected the Italies went through something similarly embarrassing (Feliciano was a little too touchy about that curl), he didn't relish the idea of confiding to them. Besides, he didn't want anyone knowing what he was doing when he touched his forehead during their longer, more mundane meetings. No, he shouldn't do it, but there was a thrill in pleasuring himself in plain sight and no one had a clue.

Francis wasn't kidding when he had announced Arthur was equally perverted. Another thing Arthur wouldn't share willingly.

But he should have known it would be Alfred to figure out he was up to something.

Alfred, nosily caring, surprising perceptive Alfred. Frustratingly well-meaning Alfred.

Alfred had thought Arthur had a headache the first time he'd seen the Brit's fingers combing through his own bangs, the look of concentration mistaken for pain. Arthur had accepted the water and light teasing, "Meetings too much for you, old man?" and Arthur made a note to be less obvious next time.

And he was more careful next time. And the time after that, and after that. 

His care wasn't enough, he realized, when one day he saw Alfred watching him with a strange expression and Arthur tensed. He had become completely focused on the tabletop and was ignoring a question directed at him. He took stock of himself and could feel the heat coming off his own body, the flush in his cheeks. He'd taken it too far, and when he answered he voice shook minutely. A dead give away. He glanced at Alfred when he was finished responding, and the smirk he saw spelt absolutely no good for him.

Alfred didn't say anything for a while. He didn't hint that he'd looked at Arthur as though he would devour him alive. Arthur was starting to think he'd imagined the whole moment, until ...

"Hey Arthur."

"What?"

Alfred leaned close and peered at Arthur's face and Arthur clutched the pile of documents he held and leaned away.

"You're not looking so good. Kinda," Alfred pulled a concerned face so well Arthur didn't have a moment of suspicion. "Flushed."

Before Arthur could respond Alfred's hand was on his forehead and Arthur started to jerk away, but Alfred's thumb skimmed over his eyebrow, shocking him. Arthur's legs nearly gave out. He dropped his papers.

"S-s-stop!" Arthur jumped back with his hand clamped over the spot Alfred had just touched.

Alfred shoved his hands in his pockets, "What's wrong?" He leered, "You're acting kinda jumpy."

Arthur knelt to gather his now scattered papers, "Don't just touch me like that. It's rude. Help me pick this up." 

But Alfred just laughed and walked away. Arthur flipped off Alfred's retreating back, not without a little drop in is stomach. He had definitely, definitely been found out. He didn't touch his forehead during meetings anymore. He was glad it was a gesture that not many would notice the lack of, he did it often enough. Lucky for him Alfred didn't try to "check his temperature" again. The incident was almost forgotten after Alfred had come to Arthur's house several times and didn't try anything. Arthur let himself relax again. That was very silly on his part.

Then again, he supposed he shouldn't complain too much.

Alfred wanted another movie night. They'd had so many that Arthur didn't think twice about saying, "Yes. Sure, I'll get popcorn, bring your brother if you want." He wasn't surprised when Alfred was alone except for several McDonald's bags and a few DVD cases under his arms.

 

They had settled on Arthur's couch and were a ways through the second movie when Alfred looked over, and Arthur glanced back but turned back to the tele, before realizing Alfred wasn't looking away. He frowned and looked at him again, "What?"

"You have something on your face." Alfred said, and started to reach over.

It occurred to Arthur a millisecond too late that Alfred was very, very patient. Also that Arthur had fallen into a trap. That was before there was a thumb on his eyebrow and Arthur jolted, with only a couch arm to escape to.

 

"What are you doing!?" He wailed, and he was aware that Alfred was hovering over him.

"Experimenting." Alfred grinned, and dragged his thumb across the brow, making heat pool in Arthur's stomach and a gasp escape his throat. Alfred's voice was suddenly distant and Arthur vaguely heard, "I knew it." when Alfred reached with both hands and cradled Arthur's face before the Brit could finish his graceful attempt to fall off the couch. Arthur ended with his legs propped on the couch and his rear on the floor while Alfred awkwardly leaned over him. Arthur grabbed Alfred's wrists and started an odd shimmy to get away but only succeeded in dragging his pants down a bit. Alfred moved with him, sliding down to the floor and straddling the panicking man, watching as Arthur's breath got heavier even has Arthur gave a weak glare. 

"Let. Go." Arthur ground out, trying to pull Alfred's hands away despite the flush reaching his face and that his hips were steadily starting to move in time to Alfred's stroking.

Alfred hummed and brightened as he shifted forward to sit on Arthur's waist, smirking when he felt the weight of Arthur's cock press against him, "I don't think, eh, 'Big Ben' agrees." Alfred chortled, rocking his hips in time to his thumbs on Arthur's eyebrows and relishing the squirms and muffled gasps and thoroughly embarrassed glare.

Arthur clamped his eyes shut and bit corner of his lip as the shocks from his forehead led straight to his groin and belly. He couldn't help the small arches even with Alfred sitting on him. He still tried to kick himself away using the couch as leverage, realizing belatedly that he was just rubbing his cock on Alfred's ass and that felt very, very good. The heat rushed to his neck at this realization and though he still very much wanted to get away his struggles only served to heat his body much to Alfred's delight and amusement. Soon Arthur wasn't fighting, but clinging to Alfred's wrists and desperately angling his hips to ride against Alfred's leg. He rocked in time to Alfred's strokes. He shook and wanted to spread his legs, let his own cock free but satisfied himself by pressing into the body above him. He moved to force that swelling in his gut to expand, and Arthur finally let a low moan that made Alfred's grin split from ear to ear.

Alfred lightly dragged his nails across the brows earning another moan and a violent thrust. When Alfred tugged to pull Arthur's head back, Arthur went without a fight and Alfred leaned to kiss the writhing Brit's neck. Alfred rewarded the reluctant compliance with a rougher rub, a gentle nip to the throat and Arthur seized and let a strangled groan noise despite himself. Alfred moved to Arthur's ear and lapped at the lobe, still scratching and petting Arthur's brows and Arthur hissed, rocking his head to the side. Whether this was consent Alfred didn't know, but he took advantage and sucked hard on Arthur's neck. If the whimper and shudder that raked through Arthur was any evidence, Arthur really didn't mind.

Somewhere behind his closed eyes Arthur registered there was going to be a bruise but he couldn't think beyond the heat. Instead he moaned when the sensitive spot was pressed against by Alfred's tongue and Arthur grabbed harder at his wrists, feeling himself arch and the shakes that rocked him along with Alfred's grinding. Arthur noticed his bottom lip chewed raw; he licked at it and more heat flushed his face. Sensitive. His nerves were on fire.

He whimpered when he felt Alfred's lips on his forehead. His legs skittered in a weak attempt to sit up but Alfred pushed him back down and scooted to sit on Arthur's belly. Arthur's eyes nearly crossed, and they did start to well in frustration when he realized his cock had nothing to grind on. Alfred murmured something, or maybe hummed, Arthur didn't know but he was thrusting into air and his pants were not nearly enough friction.

Then he felt Alfred's breath on his forehead and braced himself. It should have felt gross. Instead Arthur keened and slackened his grip on Alfred's wrists as Alfred's tongue found its way across his brow. His cock throbbed and his toes curled and the heat behind his eyes exploded and he found himself swearing in time to Alfred's long, wet licks.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,"

Arthur was aware he could see Alfred's clothed erection if he looked down. A part of him wanted to rectify this, to see if there was anything about Alfred that would reduce him to this. But, thought was gone when Arthur felt his orgasm ripple through him, vision blurring and whiting and he heard his own cry echo in his ears.

When Arthur came down shaking and limp Alfred was still sitting on him but pulled back and watching. Arthur, in his haze, couldn't identify Alfred's expression but it wasn't completely amused, but maybe showed a little curiosity.

Alfred's slight smile broke into a grin, "Holy shit that was awesome."

Arthur gave himself permission to fall asleep. Which he did, spectacularly.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 2009.


End file.
